


Dancing Queen

by wearethenorth



Series: Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight) [1]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis's Taser, Darcy Lewis's iPod, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M, Mamma Mia! - Freeform, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spiderman cameo, Stan Lee makes a cameo, also everyone hates Reed Richards, omg why are those even tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethenorth/pseuds/wearethenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only made sense to her that she’d meet her soulmate dancing to the Mamma Mia! soundtrack.<br/>(“I love it when the universe gets cute,” Tony grinned down at Victor von Doom’s unconscious body. “God I hope you didn’t just declare war on Latveria.”)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Queen

Darcy Lewis loved ABBA.

Like _loved_ ABBA.

She’d seen Mamma Mia! at least forty times (thanks Meryl Streep), and had even dragged Jane out to see the Broadway show several times since their move to New York (thanks Tony Stark). So it only made sense to her that she’d meet her soulmate dancing to Julie Walters’ Take A Chance On Me. (“I love it when the universe gets cute,” Tony grinned down at Victor von Doom’s unconscious body. “God I hope you didn’t just declare war on Latveria.”)

Okay, so explanation time.

Darcy Lewis had been born with her soulmark scrawled neatly across her collarbone. Tame compared to some of the other soulmarks she’d seen—and Darcy met this one guy in college who had the words ‘ _No pickles and extra mayo, please_ ’ curving over his ass cheek (don’t even ask)—but Darcy was content. He was older, obviously, but that wasn’t unusual. No, the weird part was what her soulmark actually said.

Now, Darcy Lewis didn’t shy away from much. But when her friends insisted on showing off their soulmarks in the girl’s locker room, Darcy had politely declined.

‘ _Doom is most displeased with this arrangement, but he supposes your music taste and your assets will suffice_.’

(She didn’t get what the obnoxious asshole meant by _‘assets’_ until she was thirteen, and her brother had fun explaining that.)

She wasn’t ashamed of his words. She was quite proud of the girls herself. It was the ‘displeased’ part that had Darcy grinding her teeth. It wasn’t like she had a choice either! And what kind of sociopath referred to himself as _Doom?_ And in third-person, at that?

Darcy found that out in her sophomore year at Culver.

She’d been late to her International Relations class because some douchebag in the hall had sprinted into her as she was rounding the corner and didn’t have the decency to stick around to help her pick up her books off the floor, and she wasn’t really perturbed when she’d walked into the building to see the projector blasting something that looked like World War II Nazi propaganda.

“I thought we’d covered the history portion last semester,” she’d said as she had dropped down in an empty chair. The kid next to her—Parker, or Peter, she thought his name was—jumped, then gave her a wary smile. “We did. This is recent, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Doctor Doom’s named himself king of Latveria or something.”

Darcy froze. “Doctor… _Doom?”_

“Yeah, you know him. Big Baddie who tried to kill the Fantastic Four a couple years ago?”

“I—“ And then she’d promptly fled the classroom.

No fucking way, right? But it was true.

The universe had sidled her with an egomaniac who toted a god-complex like he was Loki-flippin’-Laufeyson.

And she was cool.

Darcy Lewis had never been a big fan of the whole soulmate thing—a fact which had nothing to do with her supposed life-partner being a fucking dictator, _thank you very much_ —so she ignored it as much as she could. I mean, what were the chances of Victor von Doom running into a college kid who was barely scraping by with her Starbucks salary?

And then she signed up for her internship with Jane, because _ew science classes no thank you_ and her life basically went to hell.

New Mexico happened, and Thor happened, and SHIELD happened, and then Loki happened, and then London happened, and Thor happened _again,_ and Jane just _had_ to take up Tony Stark’s once-in-a-lifetime offer and go live at the Tower, and Darcy just _had_ to tag along with her best friend.

_Started from the bottom, now we’re here._

Darcy grinned quietly to herself as she pressed the button for the top floor of the Baxter Building, awkwardly waving at the mustached mailroom guy who always kept the door open for her on her coffee runs while she was juggling five cups of coffee in both arms.

She winced at the elevator music, because _of course_ Reed Richards would have something as boring as Beethoven playing in his private elevator. With an efficiency that surprised even her, she whipped out her iPod—while not spilling a drop of coffee, mind you—and clicked shuffle, grinning when Amanda Seyfried’s voice blocked out the sound of violins.

The elevator took several minutes to reach the top floor—because Richards was a scientist but he couldn’t be bothered to make his fucking elevator move faster—and Darcy sighed when the doors finally slid open.

She was greeted with silence when she stepped out, and wished she could reach into her back pocket once more to turn down the volume now that it had changed the song, but she wasn’t sure she could possibly do that again without spilling Stark’s triple espresso all over her sweater sleeve.

“Hello?” She called, frowning when there was no answer. Julie Walters sang away in her back pocket. “He _lloooo_?”

Setting the coffee down on a nearby table, Darcy inched forward, peeking into the common room to make sure Johnny Storm wasn’t going to pop out of the corner and scream 'FLAME ON!’ like he’d done the last four times she’d brought the scientists their daily dose of caffeine.

She wasn’t met with a flaming man, or anyone really. The apartment was silent as a grave.

That thought filled her with dread almost immediately, and she resolved to check the lab next.

Darcy thought about turning her music off, but if a villain _was_ in the building, wouldn’t that cue him into the fact that she knew something was off? With that thought, Darcy made her way upstairs. She could hear muffled voices as she inched around the corner, and gave a small sigh of relief when she heard Tony's voice. But there was someone else too. Someone that sounded too low to be either Jane or Richards, and Darcy checked her back pocket for her taser.

 _Right,_ she thought. _Don’t fuck this up. Be cool, Lewis. You got one shot_.

_Shit, but what if it’s like a pizza guy or something?_

_Shut up, brain._

_Okay, let’s check first. Be cool, Lewis, be cool._

‘Being cool’ consisted of dancing into the room singing _Take A Chance On Me_ and pretending she didn’t notice the moment the voices fell silent at her entrance.

“Coffee’s downstairs!” She raised her voice over the music, glancing at the figure in the corner of the room. _Definitely not the pizza guy_.

She couldn’t see his face in the low lighting of the lab, but she saw Tony smack his hand against his face. “Tell Jane and Richards. And if he touches my pumpkin spice latte again I’ll tase the shit out of him.”

“Darcy, this isn’t really the time or place—“

“Relax, boss man, it’s just ABBA,” she slowly danced closer to the shadowy figure.

“Kid, seriously—“

“ _You say that I waste my time, but I can’t get you off my mind_!”

 _“Darcy!”_ That was Jane’s voice. She _totally_ ignored her. Couldn’t she see she was on a role?

“ _Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on_ —BOOM BABY!” The shadowy figure convulsed as the tongs of her taser met the metal of his armor. “Who’s ‘ _just an intern_ ’ now, bitch!” That comment was only 17% aimed at Reed Richards.

The masked man’s eyes widened, then rolled back into his head as he dropped to the floor.

 _“Jesus!”_ Jane shrieked, dragging Darcy away from the intruder’s prone form.

“Nah, it’s just me.”

“Dude,” Tony gawked. _“Dude,_ you did not—“

“Is he gone?” Richards’ head peeked out from under an examination table, and Darcy snorted. _Mr. Fantastic my ass._

“Don’t underestimate the power of one Darcy J. Lewis,” Tony said proudly.

“Or the _stupidity,”_ Jane admonished. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“Jane, come _on.”_

“You just _tased_ Victor von Doom!” Darcy froze.

 _No fucking way_.

She turned, and realized how stupid she was not to recognize the dark green cloak and the metal mask.

“Shit.”

_"Yeah!”_

“No, not because of that. I’ve been itching to tase someone since you two started working with Reed Richards.”

“I _resent_ that!”

“Shut up and call an ambulance, you douchebag.”

“Why?” Tony shrugged. “Look at him, he’s fine.”

“Or frothing at the mouth underneath his mask,” Jane pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s not cool.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because he’s my _soulmate,_ you idiot.”

On the other side of the room, Richards fainted.

“No fucking way!” Tony guffawed. “Dude!”

“Holy shit!” Darcy and Tony turned to stare at Jane, who lifted her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. It—I’m really stressed out right now.”

“You and I both,” muttered Darcy.

_Take a chance on meeee._

She was surprised the song hadn’t ended yet.

“I love it when the universe gets cute,” Tony grinned down at Victor von Doom’s unconscious body. “God I hope you didn’t just declare war on Latveria.”

That’s when Doom blinked his eyes open, and Tony jumped away shrieking like a girl.

“Doom is most displeased with this arrangement,” then his eyes fell on her, and she could practically feel the smirk underneath his mask. “But he supposes your music taste and your _assets_ will suffice.”

Darcy raised her taser and fired the additional charge.

Doom crumpled back to the floor with a garbled shout.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I found out that was a boob comment.”

And _yeah,_ he liked her music taste, _sure._

(Darcy—unlike Tony—hated it when the universe got cute.)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably gonna write a sequel to this.


End file.
